


'til the tears run down from my eyes, lord (find me somebody to love)

by orphan_account



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Caretaking, Drug Abuse, M/M, Pre-Hero or Hate Crime?, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-21
Updated: 2017-05-21
Packaged: 2018-11-03 03:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10958631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: [title from somebody to love by queen]mac is desperate to feel loved - so he prays.





	'til the tears run down from my eyes, lord (find me somebody to love)

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this shit as a side thing cause i've been in school and haven't had time to work on my charden thing. only three more days left of my sophomore year tho, so plenty of charden to come. in the meantime, this shit.

Mac's not good at being Catholic but he's good at worshipping. He's good at prayer and begging for forgiveness; asking for what he needs kneeling with a crucifix in hand. When he prays, he prays quietly as Dennis has told him, it weirds out the girls he brings home to 'engage physically'. So he whispers, listing all the horrible shit he had done within a day, every core tenant of his faith he's broken - after all, we're all sinners, and that's what Jesus died for - reading off his sins from a mental teleprompter. He hopes that he can continue to do what he wants under the Goodness of God as long as he repents, so he does, dilligently taking care to mention everything down to the smallest of details. To Mac, this is how he will get what he wants. Sometimes it's money, sex, booze, whatever. Whatever can get him through his next day of infidelity to his faith. He's much more religious than he cares to share with the gang, especially when he asks for certain things. He asks for Charlie to stop being so gross and for Frank to give him more money and for...well...somebody to love him. Never did he ever want to be someone desperate enough to have to beg the higher power for love, but now here he was, like a cliché, praying for love. For a hour that night he sat on his knees, eyes closed tight with his rosary wrapped around his hands, asking for a love. From the room over he could hear Dennis' and a girl's heavy, deep breathing and light screams. Physically he shook his head, to try and rid the sound of Dennis from his mind, like it would work (it didn't). All of this swirled in him like a fog, straining his ability to stay awake after an all-nighter the previous evening. After staying like this for so long, he eventually fell over dead tired onto his carpet, in a haze of exhaustion.  
Somehow he woke up in his bed.  
As his eyes creaked open, he wondered how he ended in his bed, since he didn't remember getting into bed. Most of the night had been a haze in his head, but as he pulled his sheets off himself he remembered one thing, which is that he asked for a sign. He asked that if someone loved him there would be a sign. With each quiet breath he took lying in the bed, he wished more so that his feelings would go away then have a target, something to be put on. Like a person. A person who he likes, and the feelings would then increase and swirl out of control. Sometimes he wishes he could be like Dennis, emotionless and tactical in relationships, only seeking one thing and disposing of what he doesn't need anymore. Dennis is so good at it too, with a stunning figure and jawline of the God he claims to be. He is a man built for what he does, and Mac isn't. Mac gets invested, Mac wants love. So he needs to start Scooby Doo styling this fucking sign.

At the bar Dennis held a martini glass in his right hand and a blunt in his left. Only 10 in the morning, Mac thought. Dennis sat on the bartop, legs hanging gangly over the side, and obviously wasted out of his mind. His shirt was buttoned wrong and stained with beer, face without makeup, and his hair oily. On the sides of his neck were ornamentation of his sexuality, bruises with teeth marks sunk in that looked painful and made Mac rub his own neck. The physical cacophony in the melody of Dennis was not a sight Mac had not seen before, but this one was the truest. It wasn't caused by The Gang doing something, it was Dennis, of his own will fucking himself up in the bar alone for God knows why. The last detail Mac noticed before he spoke was a bandage across Dennis' collarbone.

"Dennis, what the fuck is going on in here?"

"She fucking..she fucking..just fucking left!"

  
Through a slurred tongue Mac was able to decipher what had happened the previous night. Apparently the girl Dennis had been with had started to sober up mid-sex (she had been tipsy beforehand) and she realized she didn't even find him attractive and just got up and left. Took Dennis' dick right out of her and left. And Dennis, putting much of his self worth into his sexual performance flipped his shit, got wasted and tried to cut his throat. He missed and only was using a small kitchen knife hardly large enough to gut a grape, but nonetheless wished to die. The rejection hit Dennis like a gunshot. So now he was wounded, vulnerable. What else would he do but get wasted? But Mac wanted to solve this problem colloquially. He felt a strange need to help Dennis instead of just joining in on the misery. Maybe God would reward him for helping his friend, he thought. Now in this mentality, he took the blunt out of Dennis' hand and burned it out on an ashtray on the bartop. Before Dennis could even object to Mac's action, he had already taken the martini and poured it down the sink. All the while, Mac was hoping that his act of kindness, sobering up his best friend, would win him God's favor. He needed to save Dennis, and then his prayers would come true. Mac joined Dennis sitting on the bar, and put a finger over Dennis' mouth before he could speak his disapproval of Mac taking away his drugs. The anger in Dennis' eyes at being denied his vices relaxed, and they instead fell down into tears.   
"Mac...w-why would she leave me? I'm amazing, I-I'm a God!" He trembled, moving his shaking hands to Mac's chest, anxiously grasping. His nails dug into Mac, who let out a small yelp in pain, but tried to suppress it. "I'm perf-fect, right Mac? I have a-a perfect body and personality and-" His grip tightened on Mac as he put his head into his shoulder and weeped. Mac was never a literal or metaphorical shoulder to cry on, but he guessed he was now. "Listen, Dennis, you don't need a bitch like that to feel worthy," Mac said quietly, "You should know you are. Look at you." Lightly he ran his hand down Dennis' back in an attempt to soothe him. "Let's go back to the apartment and get you cleaned up. You smell like shit."  
After a car ride consisting of Mac suffering through some hair metal for the sake of Dennis, they arrived back at the apartment. On the way, Dennis had been silent, but now he was back to crying. He lay down on the couch, letting the tears stream down his face chaotically. He really had snapped, Mac knew. Trying his best to clean Dennis up, he practically begged for him to get in the shower and wash the smoke and vomit smell from his hair. Eventually he got to him after much resistance. While Dennis was in the shower, Mac did everything he could. He called the gang saying that he and Dennis were both sick and to leave them alone for the day, he washed Dennis' clothes, he made him breakfast, and found their copy of Leathal Weapon (the original) to play for him. He felt proud of himself, doing all of this Out Of Kindness. This was a good thing he was doing, and. His train of thought crashed the second he saw Dennis come out of the bathroom.   
"Mac, there aren't any towels in there."  
Subconsciously, his cheeks ran red. For a moment he stumbled mentally, before blurting out, "There's one in the dryer, I'll get you one." He hurried to the dryer, trying not to look at Dennis. With as much haste as possible he pulled out a towel and threw it at him, breathing a sigh of relief as soon as Dennis covered himself. His mind immedietly tried to forget that happening as he got out some clothes for Dennis as well and handed them to him. Let's pretend this didn't happen, he thought.  
Dennis re-entered the main room of the apartment, this time dressed. He ate breakfast with Mac watching Leathal Weapon in near silence the whole time, destroying the food like he hadn't eaten in days, and he probably hadn't. "This is great, Mac. Thank you." He said, looking Mac straight in the eyes. Slowly his hand moved on top of Mac's on the couch and he spoke quietly, "It means a lot, that you did all this for me. Even if..even if that bitch didn't find me good enough, at least there's always you, Mac. You're always there. Always." He broke the eye contact, starting to feel uncomfortable with his honesty. "Mac, I hope this isn't weird to ask, but why do you believe in God?"  
A thousand answers flew through Mac's head. And he decided on one.

"Because He made somebody as perfect as you. And now I know why He did."

With hesitation he leaned into Dennis, and kissed him softly on the cheek. In return Dennis grabbed him by the jaw and kissed him as if the world was ending.

"He made you perfect for me."

 


End file.
